Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

YOU ARE REQUIRED TO READ THE COPYRIGHT NOTICE AT THIS LINK BEFORE YOU READ THE FOLLOWING WORK, THAT IS AVAILABLE SOLELY FOR PRIVATE STUDY, SCHOLARSHIP OR RESEARCH PURSUANT TO 17 U.S.C. SECTION 107 AND 108. IN THE EVENT THAT THE LIBRARY DETERMINES THAT UNLAWFUL COPYING OF THIS WORK HAS OCCURRED, THE LIBRARY HAS THE RIGHT TO BLOCK THE I.P. ADDRESS AT WHICH THE UNLAWFUL COPYING APPEARED TO HAVE OCCURRED. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE RIGHTS OF COPYRIGHT OWNERS.

“See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.” This formulation was first declared to me by some peer at the age of three or four – a veritable wise man he seemed to me – revealing the meaning of the mysterious three-monkey tableux so often encountered among the knick knacks adults accumulated in those days. It was a big revelation: the three monkeys, the first covering his eyes, the second his ears, and the third, his mouth – were a visual representation of the concept. Oh, now that I understood, how wise and virtuous those monkeys seemed. I understood in a flash why they were venerated by so many of the great and powerful big people. They were not taking in, or spreading “evil.” These monkeys were definitely on the right side of the game, since everybody knew “evil” was the worst thing of all.

So I was really surprised when I told my dad that I’d realized how important the wisdom of the three monkeys was, and he told me it was a bunch of crap. Nobody, he explained, should keep their mouth shut about evil. If there was evil going on, we needed to find out about it. We needed to see it, hear it, talk about it, and put an end to it. My namby-pamby see-no, hear-no, speak-no-evil pose went up in flames that day, and I’ve held a grudge against those cowardly monkeys ever since for leading me to make an ass out of myself in front of my dad.

Recently, I heard that an anonymous website had just come up with a list of suspect websites proliferating “fake news” to advance a Russian agenda, and the Washington Post elevated this website to the status of a genuine news-origin certifying authority. I did not bother to be concerned. People who will avoid the blacklisted news outlets are engaged in proactive self-censorship. By supporting the list, they tell everyone in earshot that they aren’t hearing or seeing fake news, so it’s impossible that they will speak it. Their minds won’t be contaminated by fake news, and no one can blame them for spreading it. If the thought police look in their heads, they will find them empty.

Three-monkey relief carving (hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil) on Shinkyusha. Nikko, Japan

Fake News (To the tune of “Downtown”)by Charles Carreon12/10/16

Turn on the TVHear the things that they’re sayingWell it sounds a lotLike News

Pick up the paperRead the things that are writtenWell it surely looksLike News

But now the “Prop or Not” ListHas landed in my TwitterAnd Huff-po, WaPo, Daily BeastThey all are in a flutter –What to Believe?The Rooskies are under the BedThe Chinese are here to be fedThis isFake News!Let’s see if it’s on the listOh dear, Look at it right here,Fake News!Straight from the Kremlin, they say!

Power’s corruptingAnd media has powerTo sell Fake News!Now who do you thinkMight be in a positionTo buy Fake News?

I mean the news is spozed toGive you all the skinnyThe straight dope and the lowdownAnd the truly on the level.Good luck with that!Citizens United took over your headNow the screaming liberalsSay Conservatives are RedThis is Fake NewsDon’t try to sell me thisFake NewsI know this shit’s on the listFake NewsJust stick this right up your ass.

Truth is expensive,So they use it quite sparingly inFake NewsLike the sun’s in the skyAnd there’s a base on the moonYou call that Fake News?Your mind is just a playgroundFor thoughts of other’s makingYour choices like a baby’s candyRight there for the taking.

They have to lie, tooThe Rooskies are under the BedThe Chinese are here to be fedThis isFake News!Let’s see if it’s on the listOh dear, Look at it right here,Fake News!Straight from the Kremlin, they say!

Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Posted: Thu Nov 09, 2017 7:26 am

by admin

The Minotaur of Hollywood, A Harvey Weinstein ProductionDedicated to Los Angeles, that Loved Harvey Weinstein, Until it Didn'tby Charles CarreonNovember 9, 2017

NOTICE: THIS WORK MAY BE PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT

YOU ARE REQUIRED TO READ THE COPYRIGHT NOTICE AT THIS LINK BEFORE YOU READ THE FOLLOWING WORK, THAT IS AVAILABLE SOLELY FOR PRIVATE STUDY, SCHOLARSHIP OR RESEARCH PURSUANT TO 17 U.S.C. SECTION 107 AND 108. IN THE EVENT THAT THE LIBRARY DETERMINES THAT UNLAWFUL COPYING OF THIS WORK HAS OCCURRED, THE LIBRARY HAS THE RIGHT TO BLOCK THE I.P. ADDRESS AT WHICH THE UNLAWFUL COPYING APPEARED TO HAVE OCCURRED. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE RIGHTS OF COPYRIGHT OWNERS.

The Minotaur of Hollywood, A Harvey Weinstein Productionby Tara Carreon

Way down in Los Angeles,That city by the seaThere was a mighty industryThat everybody thought was sweet.

They called it entertainment,Vaudeville, they made silent pictures,Publicity stills. They had talent agents,talent scouts; they made the country laughand kept the public out.

Hollywood became its nameA silly sign its claim to fameIt drew foolish girlsLike moths to flameIn a world gone madWell, who’s to blame.

The temples of Hollywood are up in the skyThrough the freeway canyonsThe limousines fly. They’re loadedwith girls who wanna be stars.Next stop is the Minotaur.

He’s got several lairs in the Hollywood hills,Unlike Bill Cosby, he doesn’t use pills,He more likes to trap,Then move in for the kill.

Built like a bear, but not as good looking,The Minotaur’s friendsAll say they weren’t watchingWhen he feasted on virginal,delicate flesh,Wiped his mouth on his bathrobe,And satisfied, left.

Hollywood’s a labyrinth, they say,Don’t you see? Concierges and bellhops,doormen and valets, a thousandhotel rooms, a million blind hallways.A girl could get lost hereAnd never be foundTill at last that old MinotaurDoes come aroundAnd asks himself lecherously,“What have I found?”

So who built this labyrinth,So secret and safe,To house this dread predatorWho loves to make waste?Why did they love this Minotaur moreThan the virginal offeringsWhose flesh the beast tore?What did he give themTo protect him with liesTo induce still more victimsTo please his desires?

Well, the Minotaur, it seemsIs a creature of dreams,For all one desires is seen in his eyes,And in that same placeAll one’s dreams die.

His evil is cunning;It moves not a step,Till all is secureAnd the trap has been setPlanning and preparation the keys to his gameYou were foolish to trust him, so you’re to blame.

Now they say the Minotaur is deadThe’ve taken off its headThey’ve dragged it behindan EscaladePainting Sunset red.

Yes, they’ve got the guards out tonightLabyrinth’s locked up tightThe Minotaur’s no moreAnd the Pacific OceanHas departed the shore.